Path to Recovery  Sequel to Path to Destruction
by dawneh
Summary: Back home in Chester and Craig is still haunted by the ghosts of Dublin
1. Chapter 1

When John Paul McQueen was 17 years old he fell in love. It wasn't a love he expected and on many levels it wasn't a love he wanted. It was a love that made him confront the thing he had been trying to ignore for a long time. It was a love that made him admit who and what he was. When he was 17 years old John Paul McQueen fell in love with his best friend.

When Craig Dean was 19 years old he stood on the edge of the world and stared down into the abyss. He had known love and friendship, he had known heartache and pain and he was ready to let go of it all. He took a single step forward and prepared for his descent. But strong arms pulled him back from the edge and held on to him tightly. When he was 19 years old Craig Dean remembered what it was to be loved by his best friend.

---

John Paul stretched as the buzzing from the alarm clock broke into his dreams. He made no effort to silence the clock as he knew, like every other morning that another hand would perform the task. And right on cue the noise from the alarm was cut off.

John Paul turned to his side and lazily opened his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Craig looking back at him. Craig's deep brown eyes were bright and alert as if he had been awake for hours, and he probably had. John Paul sometimes wondered if Craig ever slept at all, and if it wasn't for the occasions when Craig would awaken screaming in fear at some terror in his dreams John Paul would be convinced that he never did.

Craig had been through so much during his time in Dublin and John Paul knew that he would never fully understand what the man had suffered. Even now, months later, he knew that there were things Craig couldn't tell him, things he still felt too ashamed to share, things that he still held onto in the dark because letting them go might just destroy him. John Paul knew he could never take away the pain, the shame or the guilt that Craig beat himself with everyday but he tried his best to cover them with his love in the hope that one day Craig would realise that there was so much more to him than those terrible months in Ireland.

"Morning," John Paul said with a quiet smile.

This first greeting of the day was when John Paul would be able to gauge how Craig was feeling and that in turn would tell him how the rest of the day was likely to continue.

If he was greeted with a smile, with a kiss, then John Paul knew that it was a day when Craig felt rested and more confident. It would be a day when Craig would be able to accept that he was loved and he would almost seem to be the man he once was.

If he was greeted with silence then John Paul would know that Craig had let his mind brood over his worries, he had wrapped himself once again in the pain that shrouded him and it would be a day when John Paul wouldn't be able to reach him.

Craig slipped from the bed without speaking and, turning his back to John Paul; he pulled on his dressing gown and left the room.

Today was going to be a bad day.

---

John Paul chatted inanely as he busied himself making tea. Craig was leaning against the kitchen cupboard and had still not spoken a word. John Paul found the silence oppressive and was trying desperately to mask it as he spoke of his plans for the day, something he had seen on TV the night before, a new song he had heard recently, in fact anything rather that listen to the rattle of the teaspoon against the empty cups and the low bubble as the water in the kettle came to the boil.

The kettle clicked itself off as the water inside it reached boiling point and John Paul slowly poured the hot liquid into two mugs, watching as the water inflated the teabags and they rose slowly to the top.

Craig was tense, more so than usual and the fact made John Paul jumpy, his own voice was starting to grate on his nerves and he wished Craig would say something, anything, just to acknowledge John Paul was there.

"Oh for fuck's sake will you SHUT UP!"

Craig's sudden outburst made John Paul jump and he dropped the teaspoon he was holding. He watched as it fell to the floor and clattered loudly against the tiles before looking back at Craig.

The dark haired man had turned his back on John Paul, his shoulders were hunched and they rose with heavy breaths, his hands were resting against the work surface where he had slapped them down loudly.

John Paul took a tentative step forward.

"Craig, what's wrong." John Paul's voice was low and soothing as he approached Craig.

As his hand touched Craig's shoulder John Paul could feel the tension causing hard knotted muscles beneath Craig's shirt.

As his hand touched Craig's shoulder John Paul knew he had done the wrong thing.

Craig spun around quickly, his eyes flashed wildly with a rage that John Paul had never seen and his fist connected swiftly with John Paul's jaw.

The force of the blow sent John Paul staggering backwards as a metallic taste poured into his mouth. He raised his fingertips to his split lip and held out the blood-covered hand to Craig.

"Is this what you wanted Craig," he asked quietly, "Because if it is then you've got it… now what?"

Craig didn't answer. He stood frozen to the spot his eyes glued to the bright red of the blood smeared on John Paul's fingers.

Sickness rose in his stomach at the sight of John Paul's blood, the blood that he had spilled lashing out at one of the few people who had ever really loved him.

He knew he should say something, do something, but he remained motionless, not even reacting as John Paul turned and walked from the room.

It wasn't until Craig heard the front door close that he realise John Paul had also walked out of the flat and he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever come back.

Craig raced to the sink and gripped onto its edges as he vomited into it. The tears streamed down his face but now there was nobody there to comfort him.

---

Craig sat in the silence of the living room. He hadn't moved in what could have been an hour, or a week, or even a month. He had lost any concept of time since John Paul had walked out.

He stared unblinking at his knuckles. The skin was red where it had collided with John Paul's jaw and specks of John Paul's blood still clung to it. He couldn't bring himself to wash the blood away. It served as a painful reminder of what he had done, of what he had become.

Craig's head snapped up at the sound of keys scraping in the lock of the front door. His heart beat loudly with relief that John Paul had returned but when the door to the living room opened it wasn't John Paul who walked through.

John Paul's keys dangled from a hand. Craig recognised them from the key ring, which was identical to the one that hung from his own keys. A simple plastic fob encasing a small photograph of the two of them. A photograph taken in happier times before the world fell apart.

Craig lifted his eyes to the dark gaze that observed him.

"Spike..."

"This can't carry on Craig," Spike said gently as he sat on the sofa facing the distraught younger man, "John Paul can't take much more."

"Is he OK?"

"What do you think? He's hurting Craig, and I don't just mean the cut on his mouth..."

Craig's hung his head and his eyes rested back on the drops of blood until the tears in his eyes made them blur and disappear.

"I didn't mean to…"

"I know that… HE knows that… so why did you?"

Craig simply shrugged his shoulders and watched as heavy drops of tears fell to the carpet.

"Craig look at me." Craig didn't move so Spike slipped to the floor before him. Taking Craig's face in his hands he tilted the man's tear filled eyes to his own.

"I understand what you've been through," Spike said kindly, "You know that right?"

Craig nodded. He was grateful beyond measure for Spike's understanding. There were still so many things he felt unable to tell John Paul and there were some pains he never wanted to see reflected in those soft blue eyes.

"So listen to me when I tell you… you have to let it go. I know it's not easy but you've got to do it… you've got to learn to move on… if you don't…"

Spike didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to they both knew how that ended, "if you don't you could lose John Paul for good."

"I don't know how to… sometimes… in my head… it's all there is… and then I think of him and…"

Spike frowned for a second, "Him?"

Craig shuffled in his seat as he pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket. He opened it to remove a small newspaper cutting that he handed to Spike. Unfolding the scrap of paper Spike found himself looking at a faded picture of a young blonde man. It was hard to tell from the picture but Spike knew that this man had blue eyes just as he knew who the man was.

"Is this Jonathan?" Spike asked already knowing the answer before Craig nodded. "Does John Paul know you still have this?"

"I don't think so… no… no he doesn't."

"Carrying this around, it's not gonna help Craig, what good can it do?"

"How can I just forget him? What I did to him?"

"You didn't DO anything Craig, when are you gonna believe that. What happened to him, what he did, it was none of your doing."

"But I started it, I made him…" Craig's eyes were wide and the tears poured down his cheeks in rivers.

"What Craig? What did you make him? Did you make him go to X that night? Did you make him follow you into the toilets? Did you force yourself on him? Did you Craig, did you do ANY of those thing?" Spike held Craig's face gently but firmly as he spoke desperate for the reasoning of his words to reach the man.

"No I didn't but…"

"But nothing Craig, what happened, it wasn't you fault."

"If I hadn't…"

"If you hadn't then someone else would have… you know that. You know what kind of place that was… no comes out of there the same as they went in… no one."

"He killed a man." Craig whispered the words as if saying them any louder would make them sound too real.

"I know," the sympathy in Spike's eyes sent fresh tears cascading down Craig's cheeks, "And that wasn't your fault either. Things were always gonna end badly for Pete, men like that… the way they are… eventually he was bound to push someone too far… the fact that you knew both of them doesn't make you responsible."

Craig slowly pulled another cutting from his wallet and handed it to Spike. A small court report that had been hidden within the pages of a newspaper told of the sentencing of the 18-year-old Jonathan Edwards for murder, he had been given life imprisonment with a recommendation that he served 15 years.

"They didn't even believe that it was self defence," Craig said sadly, "No one spoke up for him… I should have been there… I should have said…"

"What Craig? Could you really have stood in court and told them all what Pete did to you? What you let him do? Would you want your family to know that?"

"It could have helped…"

"He went away and bought the gun," Spike said as he wiped the tears from Craig's face, "That makes it premeditated, nothing you said could have helped."

Spike crumpled the two newspaper cuttings in his hand and shoved them into his pockets.

"Let it go Craig, it's time to move on. Please, before it destroys you completely. You have a wonderful man who loves you, isn't that worth fighting for? Isn't making John Paul happy again worth any effort?"

"I'd do anything for him."

"Then do it Craig, do it." Spike got to his feet and stroked his hand over the top of Craig's head affectionately. "I have to go, but think about what I said. It's time to stop blaming yourself."

Craig rose to his feet and took a hold of Spike's arm. "Is he… is he coming home?"

Spike smiled and nodded, "I had to stop him coming straight back, I wanted to talk to you first."

Spike pulled Craig into his arms and held him tightly for a few seconds before stepping back.

"I appreciate what you're going through Craig, I really do, but if you ever touch him like that again, if you ever hurt him like that again I won't be so understanding. I mean it Craig, one time you get forgiven, the second time… well don't let there BE a second time."

"I won't," Craig whispered hanging his head in shame, "Tell him that I love him won't you?"

"No," Spike said stroking Craig's cheek, "You tell him that yourself, he needs to hear it."

Craig fell back into his chair once Spike had gone. He felt as if some of the weight he had been carrying with him was lifted and now he just had to let John Paul know how truly sorry he was. Settling back into the comfort of the armchair Craig waited to hear the sound of keys in the lock again.

---

It's another hour before Craig hears the welcome sound of John Paul returning home. He rises to his feet as the door is pushed open and the blonde haired man steps into the room.

Craig's breath catches in his throat as he sees the swollen cut on John Paul's lip, the bruising around it already turning several shades of purple. Walking slowly, nervously, to John Paul he reaches out a hand and touches the wound gently.

"I'm so sorry," Craig whispers, his eyes heavy with regret.

"I know," John Paul smiles a soft understanding as he takes Craig into his arms.

Spike's warning echoes around Craig's head and he knows that if he ever raised his hand to John Paul again he would gladly take any punishment that Spike deemed fit. If he ever hurt John Paul like that again he would deserve far more that Spike would be willing to dish out.

"I wish you could let me in Craig," John Paul breathes into the warmth of Craig's neck, "I wish you could let me help you."

"I don't know how," Craig admits sadly, "I don't even know where to start."

John Paul loosens his hold on Craig and steps back to look into the pain of his deep brown eyes.

"You know I love you right?"

Craig nods with a half-smile.

"Well don't ever forget that… whatever happens… whatever has happened… I love you and nothing can change that."

John Paul winces slightly at the sharp pain in his mouth as he presses his lips to Craig's forehead in a comforting kiss.

"Spike told me about the newspaper cuttings," John Paul strokes Craig's face softly as he speaks, "It wasn't your fault Craig, none of this was your fault. You believe that don't you?"

Craig desperately wants to tell John Paul what he wants to hear. He wants to say that he knows he's not responsible for the actions of those other men. He wants to let go of the ghosts that are haunting him and move away from the painful memories of the past. But he can't do any of those things. In his heart he still feels the shame and guilt as sharply as the first day it hit him and even the comfort of John Paul's arms can't take that away.

John Paul pulls Craig back into his arms and holds him tightly, offering the man the only support that he is able to and cursing himself that it isn't enough. He would have liked nothing more than to hurt the men who had hurt Craig so badly and to make them suffer the way Craig was suffering. But he knew that he couldn't. One of the men responsible for Craig's pain was already dead and the other one greeted John Paul in the mirror every morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike wasn't expecting any visitors so the insistent pounding on his front door came a quite a surprise to his, as was the dishevelled sight of Craig beyond it. It was raining heavily and Craig had obviously left the flat he shared with John Paul in a hurry, he didn't even have a coat on.

"Craig, what's up? Come in, I'll get you a towel."

"I'm fine, I don't need anything…"

"Craig mate, you're soaked to the skin, go through and I'll stick the fire on."

Craig seems surprised as he looks down at himself to see his clothes drenched and he begins to shiver as if only now noticing how cold he is.

After grabbing a large bath towel Spike follows Craig into the living room and, after handing Craig the towel, he switches the fire on to give his guest a little more warmth.

Craig roughly dries his hair and rubs the towel over his face and mops the worst of the rain from his shirt before dropping it to the floor and holding his hands to the heat of the fire.

"So what's up?" Spike asks trying to sound casual but Craig's appearance has him worried.

"Nothing I just… fancied a chat," Craig replies, as he stares unblinking at the fake flames dancing in the fireplace.

"And you didn't have time to get oh, I don't know, a coat maybe?"

Spike places a hand on Craig's back, he can feel how much the younger man is trembling and he is certain that it is not all caused by the cold.

"Craig what's happened?"

A few days had passed since Spike last saw Craig and, if John Paul's recent phone call had been anything to go by, things were slowly improving. He dreaded to think what had changed so quickly.

"Craig talk to me." Spike slowly slips his arm around Craig's shoulders and the shaking man turns into his embrace pressing his face into Spike's chest.

Spike tightened his grip as he held Craig close, the damp of Craig's shirt soaking through Spike's clothes.

Craig breathed deeply against Spike's body. He smelt warm, the rich scent of his aftershave mingled with his skin. He smelt real. He smelt alive.

Craig's hands moved over the firmness of Spike's chest and over his neck until the cupped the older man's face. Craig's kiss was sudden and hungry and it took Spike completely by surprise. His mouth pressed hard against Spike's as he fought to drive his tongue into the heat of Spike's mouth.

With a shove Spike pushed Craig back. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Please Spike…" Craig pleaded moving back against the man and grabbing at his belt, trying to fight his way into Spike's trousers.

"Craig, stop it," Spike held tightly onto the young man's wrists until he stopped struggling, "What are you playing at?"

Craig's eyes were dark and haunted as he turned them to Spike. "Please Spike," he repeated quietly, "I just need…"

"Not that Craig… and not me." Spike's tight hold of Craig's wrists loosened as he felt the man relax.

"But I can't… we can't…" Craig buried his face in his hands and let out a low pitiful whimper.

"What Craig?" Spike stroked softly at Craig's hair as he spoke.

Finally Craig lifted his face again. "It's John Paul… sometimes I want him so much…"

"That's a good thing," Spike said as he continued to soothe the troubled man.

"But when I try… when I touch him…" Craig bites his lip as he tries to find the words. "I feel wrong… I feel dirty like I have no right to be anywhere near him… and I can't… we haven't… not since I got home…"

"Oh Craig," Spike can feel the pain in his young friends voice and he aches with a memory of how that pain feels.

Craig slumped onto the softness of Spike's sofa and let his head fall back into his hands.

"And I didn't mean… I didn't want to hurt him… but I thought…"

A cold hand suddenly gripped at Spike's chest. "Craig what have you done?"

"I didn't mean to," Craig repeated with tears in his eyes.

Spike falls to his knees and takes Craig's face in his hands, looking intently into those tear filled deep brown eyes. "Tell me Craig, tell me what happened, tell me what you've done." There is a hint of a threat in Spike's voice; the unspoken words hang between the men promising retribution if John Paul has been hurt. The words remain unsaid but as Craig begins to talk again they are both aware of their presence.

---

John Paul always loved Thursdays. His schedule at HCC had worked out that he always had Thursday afternoons free and that meant more time to spend with Craig.

Since the day Craig had struck out at him John Paul had noticed a change in his boyfriend. He didn't know if it had been something that Spike had said or the shock of what he had done but Craig had seemed far more positive and for the first time in a long time John Paul could see hints of the old Craig returning.

Craig was watching TV when John Paul got home and he rose to his feet as John Paul entered the room. He quickly pulled John Paul into a welcoming embraced and kissed him gently on the lips.

"You missed me then?" John Paul asked teasingly.

"Always do," Craig replied as John Paul disentangled himself from Craig's arms to take his coat off.

Craig had been thinking about nothing but John Paul from the second the man left the flat earlier that morning. There were times when thinking about John Paul made Craig happy and times when it awoke the pain of being without him and, if Craig was being honest, there were times when thinking about John Paul just made him downright horny.

The thought of the bright blue of John Paul's eyes, the rich deep pink of his full soft mouth, the firm curve of his gently muscled arms and the taughtness of his belly and the roundness of his buttocks. A complete package of perfection that Craig longed to take into his arms and hold forever. The sensuously beautiful body that he dreamed of making love to until the early hours.

Since John Paul had brought him home from Dublin Craig had been unable to show his boyfriend how much he loved him, how much he desired him. As much as he longed to reach out and touch the beautiful blonde man the way he used to, every time he made the attempt he would freeze as panic and self-revulsion would cancel out any desire he had been feeling.

John Paul assured him that it didn't matter, that he was happy to wait for as long as Craig needed.

But it did matter. It mattered to Craig. His last sexual encounter had been violent and brutal and he desperately needed to replace those memories with ones of John Paul's gentle touch.

"What are you thinking about?" John Paul asked with a smile as he watched Craig's eyes following him around the room.

"You…"

"Oh really?"

Craig walked slowly towards the object of his desire and reached his hands to the softness of John Paul's face.

"Really," he replied quietly as he touched his mouth to John Paul's lips.

Craig had meant to be gentle, he had meant to caress every inch of John Paul's body with tenderness and shower him with love. He had meant to make love to the wonderful person that he had in his life just like he used to. Craig meant to do these things, but he couldn't remember how.

Craig didn't know how he got there but without realising it he had John Paul pinned against the wall as he tore frantically at his clothes. His teeth tore at the skin of John Paul's neck as he roughly turned the man from him, pushing him hard into the wall, knocking John Paul's breath from his chest.

"Craig, please…" John Paul's voice was hoarse and shaken as Craig fought with his belt buckle.

Craig's arm was tight around John Paul's throat as he pulled at his trousers, dragging them down with one hand.

"Craig… stop… please…" John Paul struggled for air as he spoke, trying to shake Craig's hold. "Craig… I can't breathe… you're hurting me…"

John Paul tried to shout the words but he didn't have enough air in his lungs for the volume and the words came out strained and cracked but somehow they managed to penetrate through the black veil that had descended over Craig.

Craig arm slipped from around John Paul's neck and he staggered back as if he'd been punched.

"What the hell are you playing at?" John Paul gasped as he adjusted his clothes and turned to face Craig.

Craig's eyes darted around the room unable to rest on John Paul, unable to face the look in John Paul's eyes, certain that he would see disgust.

"I don't know… I'm sorry…" Craig ran from the room and seconds later John Paul heard a crash from the kitchen.

Racing to the room John Paul saw the cutlery draw and its contents scattered over the floor and Craig was stood in the centre of the mess holding a large serrated knife.

"Craig, what are you doing?" John Paul asked moving forward slowly.

"I don't know… I shouldn't have…" Craig's knuckles were white as he held the knife's handle tightly.

"It's OK," John Paul reassured him, "No harm done… give me the knife Craig…"

Craig looked at the blade in his hand as if surprised to find it there and passed it into John Paul's shaky hands.

Putting the knife to one side John Paul pulled Craig into his arms and held him close.

"It's OK," he repeated softly into Craig's hair.

Craig pushed John Paul from him. "No," he replied, "It's not OK… don't you see… I'M not OK."

Craig shoved past John Paul and ran from the flat as fast as he could. He didn't hear John Paul calling after him.

---

The sharp ring of the telephone made Spike jump. There had been silence in the room since Craig had finished talking and for once Spike wasn't sure what he could say to the man to offer him comfort.

"Hello?" Spike said picking up the receiver.

"Is he there?" The worry was obvious in John Paul's voice.

"Yeah he's here."

"Did he tell you?"

"He told me… are you OK?"

"I'm fine, he didn't really do anything… I think it was just the shock, I've never seen him like that."

"But you're not hurt?" Spike was watching Craig as he spoke with John Paul. The dark haired man had dropped his face back into his hands and his shoulders shook as he quietly wept.

"I'm fine, really… Spike, how is he?"

"He's a mess," Spike replied honestly.

"Is he ever gonna be OK?"

There was a pause before Spike spoke again. "I don't know John Paul," he said softly looking at the crying man, "I really don't know."

---

The shrill scream of the alarm clock ripped into John Paul's dreams and pulled him reluctantly into wakefulness. He stretched under the warmth of the duvet and waited for the noise of the clock to be silenced. He waited for Craig's hand to reach out and hit the button that would restore peace to the room. He waited but it never happened.

Turning slowly in the bed John Paul discovered that he was alone and, as he reached over Craig's side to hit the alarm clock, he couldn't help but notice how cold that side of the bed was. Craig had been out of it for some time.

John Paul felt instantly uneasy. Craig had hardly spoken in the last week, except to repeatedly apologise for what he had done, what he had almost done, to John Paul. But he still climbed into bed beside John Paul every night and he was still there every morning. Every morning until this one.

Pulling himself from the bed John Paul hoped that there was a simple explanation for Craig's absence. He tried to convince himself that his boyfriend has simply woken early and decided to get up, but John Paul didn't believe that for a second. He knew that Craig was always awake long before the alarm, just like he knew that Craig would lie simply watching John Paul sleep until it was time for the clock to rouse him.

Perhaps Craig had wanted to make a drink and, finding the milk all gone, he had rushed out to the shops. But John Paul knew that the fridge was well stocked and Craig always preferred John Paul's tea first thing in the morning.

Padding bare foot around the flat John Paul called out Craig's name in the vain hope that he would appear.

"Craig… Craig are you here? Craig please answer me." But only silence was returned to John Paul's ears.

As he walked into the kitchen John Paul's stomach lurched. A piece of paper was pinned against the fridge by a magnetic piece of fruit and on it was written John Paul's name.

He removed the magnet and slowly unfolded the note dreading what he would read inside.

"John Paul

I'm sorry but there's something I have to do. I didn't tell you coz I know you would try to stop me but there are ghosts I need to lay to rest if I'm ever gonna be the person you deserve.

I would say don't worry but I know you well enough to know that you'll be worrying already, but please try not to worry too much. I know what I'm doing and I will try to come home as soon as I can.

I love you John Paul and I can't carry on hurting you. I can't live with the person I am any more and I can't make you live with him either.

Look after yourself till I get home.

All my love

Craig x"

Spike was pulled from his dreams by the ringing of his telephone. He pulled his pillow over his head and tried to ignore it but the ringing didn't go away.

Reluctantly he dragged himself from his bed and went to answer the call. "This better be important," he mumbled to himself as he walked, naked, across the room.

"Is he there?" John Paul's voice asked the second Spike picked up the receiver.

"John Paul?"

"Craig… is he there, is he with you?"

"No… no… why would he be… what's happened?" Spike rubbed his eyes as John Paul's worried voice wavered down the phone line.

"He's gone and I thought… I hoped maybe he'd gone to see you first…"

"Gone? Gone where?"

"I don't know Spike, he left a note but it doesn't say… I'm really worried."

"Hang on, I'll be right over… you go and see what he's taken."

Spike arrived at the flat 20 minutes later and John Paul's concern hadn't diminished, if anything it had grown steadily worse.

"He's packed an overnight bag," John Paul said the second that Spike stepped over the threshold.

"Passport?"

"I don't know… I didn't look…"

John Paul raced to the bedroom and returned moments later looking crestfallen. "He's taken it."

"What does the note say?" Spike asked, "Maybe it tells us something."

Handing over Craig's letter John Paul began to pace the room. Why had Craig taken off like this? Anything that he needed to do John Paul would have helped him with… whatever it was.

"John Paul…" Spike held the note back to his young friend with a look of serious worry in his eyes, "I think I know where he's gone."

As blue eyes met brown both men came to the same realisation. "Dublin," they said together.

"What do we do Spike," John Paul asked desperate for direction.

"Get online and find us a flight," Spike told him assertively

John Paul stood in the centre of the living room with tears glistening in his bright blue eyes.

"Don't worry," Spike said taking a gentle hold of the man and stroking his cheek, "We'll find him… We won't let him do this alone."

---

Being back in Dublin felt strange to Craig, different. The streets that he had walked before had changed but had remained the same and Craig realised it was him that had changed.

He fidgeted nervously as he waited at the table. The room seemed cold and clinical. The walls were painted a neutral magnolia shade, which had become dirty over time and their tired stained appearance now added to the general air of desperation.

"Craig?"

He turned sharply in his seat at the sound of his name. He found soft blue eyes looking down on him. They looked older than he remembered.

The young blonde man took the seat opposite Craig with a half smile, adjusting the sash that hung from his shoulder and marked him out as a prisoner. Craig took in the features of the young man he had known so briefly and felt a fresh wave of guilt assail him. The young man who had seemed so fresh and alive now looked tired and downtrodden. The young man who had had his whole life ahead of him now faced a large portion of that life behind prison walls.

"Thanks for seeing me," Craig said quietly.

"Well I start getting strange letters from a guy in England saying he needs to talk to me, how can I resist? But you didn't say why… what for," Jonathan paused as he looked at Craig closely, "I know you don't I?"

"Yeah," Craig confirmed dropping his eyes to the table, "We met in X…"

"That's right," Jonathan laughed lightly, "I remember you, we met… god that must have been the first time I went there."

"It was yeah…"

"So what is it you want?"

"I…" Craig looked back into the pale blue eyes before him and felt like weeping, what if those had been John Paul's eyes, what if someone had hurt John Paul in this way. "I wanted to say how sorry I am…"

"Sorry," Jonathan shrugged, "What have you got to be sorry for?"

"For everything, for this," Craig gestured around the room, "I can't help but think… if I hadn't…"

"What?"

"That first night… you were so unsure of everything… if you'd just gone home that night, well none of this would have happened."

Jonathan laughed and the sound surprised Craig. "Is that really what you think?"

"Well yeah, I mean you were…" Craig's hands were shaking and he laid them on the table to stop them.

"Oh Craig," Jonathan said gently, covering Craig's hand with his, "I knew what kind of place X was long before I stepped foot inside… I wasn't some naive kid you know."

"But you were so…"

"Nervous… uncertain?"

"Yeah."

"I was more distracted than anything… I was looking for someone and when you came over, well you seemed to get off on chatting up the inexperienced young thing so I played along. I was just playing the game Craig, I thought you realised that."

"But you… you asked to see me again." Craig's head was swimming with this new version of events and he rubbed his free hand over his face.

"You were a pretty decent shag," Jonathan said with a genuine smile, "But you didn't change my life!" Jonathan's smile faded as he looked into the troubled depths of Craig's deep brown eyes and realised exactly why this man had wanted to see him. "And you certainly didn't ruin it… that's what you think isn't it?"

"I thought you… I thought I… I was so convinced that I'd dragged you into a world that led you to this."

"I'm so sorry," Jonathan said squeezing the hand he was still holding, "But honestly things couldn't be further from the truth."

Looking around the room to make sure no one was too close Jonathan leant forward in his seat.

"Look," he said in a conspiratorial tone, "There are things I haven't told anyone… things that… if the police found out…"

"They won't," Craig promised, "Not from me."

"I said I went to X looking for someone…"

"Yeah?"

"I went looking for Pete." Jonathan paused to let this information sink in.

"Why would you… why would anyone..?"

"The thing is," Jonathan leaned further forward and his voice dropped lower, "About six months before I ever stepped foot in X a friend of mine paid a visit there. Only he wasn't as lucky as me… he wasn't picked up by some nice kind dark haired guy who was gonna care what happened to him… he was picked up by a psycho who wanted to fuck him over…"

"Pete?"

"Yeah… this mate of mine, he was the young innocent kind that you thought I was, at least he was until Pete had finished with him… after that… he was destroyed. That bastard brutalised him, and the more Connor begged him to stop the more Pete hurt him until he was a battered bloody mess… but then I got to know that that was what Pete enjoyed… he got off on making you scream, making you beg…"

"Did your mate, did Connor not go to the police?"

"Did you? Did anyone? Who's gonna walk into a police station and admit to that? He just told everyone he got mugged… it was a long time before he told me the truth… and that was the day before he killed himself."

Craig felt a cold chill grip his heart as Jonathan continued to talk and he placed his free hand on top of the one covering his in a show of sympathy and understanding.

"I had to listen to his family wondering why he would do such a thing… and what could I tell them eh? That their only son had been abused by a psycho and couldn't live with it? So instead I made a promise to Connor… I promised him that I'd put a stop to that bastard… make sure he couldn't do that same to anyone else…"

"And that's why you went to X?"

"Yeah, that's why…"

"But I saw you there a lot… why keep going back? Why not just find him and…"

"The truth? I was kinda having fun… you know most of the guys there… they're pretty harmless… and I though, well I thought that if I was gonna pull this off it'd look better if I was known around the place… I thought I could build myself some kind of alibi… I thought I'd at least get away with pleading self-defence…"

"And the gun?"

"Had it with me all the time… and when I was ready," a brief look of sickness washed over Jonathan's face as he remembered that night, "When I was ready I went over and started talking to Pete… it didn't take much… you know how he is… was… and before long there we were in that dirty alleyway."

Craig shuddered in recollection of that same alleyway, of those same hands touching him… of being pinned against a wall and held until he couldn't breathe.

"But you didn't…"

"What… let him fuck me… attack me? Oh I let him, and I begged and pleaded with him to stop just so that I could be certain when I walked into that police station later there would be no question about whether or not he'd beaten me. I just made that one mistake… the gun… I should never have used a gun… it was too quick and that bastard deserved to suffer…"

"And the fact that it messed up your claim for self-defence?"

"And that too… maybe I should have beaten his brains out with a brick… what d'you think?"

Craig shivered at the smile on Jonathan's lips as he thought of attacking Pete with a brick, but he couldn't help understand why the younger man felt that way.

A loud bell rang in the room making Craig jump.

"Time's up," Jonathan announced, "Thanks for coming, I appreciate it… and thanks for caring… I'm just sorry… I'm sorry you've been feeling responsible all this time… I hope coming to see me has helped."

Craig hugged the young man briefly until a guard made them separate.

"I'm really sorry," Craig said sincerely, "I'm sorry you're having to go through this… I wish there was something I could do to help."

"It's not so bad," Jonathan said as he turned to leave, "And I got that scum off the planet, that's gotta be worth the price… at least we know he can't hurt anyone again."

"Bye Jonathan."

"Bye Craig," Jonathan was smiling as he left the room. It felt good to finally tell someone the truth and he could see by the look in those troubled dark eyes that it wasn't only him that felt better for it. He wrapped his arms around himself as he headed back to his cell. He knew he wouldn't see Craig again but he had enjoyed the visit, it was good to know that people out there still cared.

Craig paused to look back as the prison gates swung closed behind him. He felt a deep ache of sorrow for that young man who has sacrificed his life to revenge his friend and to save anyone else from suffering what they had. But he also felt a tremendous sense of relief in knowing that none of what had happened had been his fault. Craig Dean was not responsible for the actions of that blue-eyed boy and he should have believed it when another blue-eyed boy kept on telling him.

With a more confident stride Craig walked out into the streets of Dublin. There was still one more thing he had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

John Paul fidgeted nervously in his seat. His fingers twisted endlessly against each other and his eyes constantly dropped to his watch.

"How much longer?" he asked impatiently.

"Ten minutes less that when you last asked," Spike replied resting his hand on the younger man's arm, "Try and relax… we'll be there soon."

"But what if…"

"We'll find him… I promise." Spike squeezed John Paul's arm affectionately.

"Why did he have to go back Spike?" John Paul asked, turning his pleading blue eyes to his friend, desperate for an answer.

"I don't know," Spike replied, hoping that John Paul couldn't hear the lie in his voice. In truth he hoped with all his heart that he didn't know the reason for Craig's return to Dublin, but like all addicts the chance of a relapse was always there. Spike knew just how easy that lifestyle was to walk back to, even if you don't plan it.

"Why didn't I go with him that time?" John Paul sighed to himself.

"Hmm?"

"If I'd gone to Dublin when I was supposed to none of this would have happened… Craig would never have gone to that place… he'd never have been hurt… if only I'd…"

"You can stop that right now," Spike told him firmly, "None of this was your fault. You didn't go coz it wasn't right. There's no way you could have known what was gonna happen. It's just bad luck that Craig found that club… if he hadn't who knows…"

"But if I had gone…"

"IF you had gone the chances are you'd have been living the same lies you had in Hollyoaks… and that isn't what you wanted."

"No… but neither is this… we've gotta find him Spike."

"And we will," Spike slipped his arm around John Paul's shoulders and pulled the man against him, "We'll find him and we'll bring him back home. Trust me."

"Thank you," John Paul said closing his eyes as he rested his head against Spike's shoulder, "I couldn't have done this without you."

Spike ran his hand lightly over John Paul's hair and silently prayed that they found Craig before it was too late.

---

Craig Dean stood in front of the tattered run down building. His hands were damp with sweat and his heart pounded heavily in his chest. He wondered for a moment if he could really go through with this but he needed to know, he had to be certain and so, with a deep breath Craig pushed open the doors of X and stepped inside.

The place was so unchanged, so familiar that it almost made him sick. The sights and smells assaulted Craig's senses as he walked slowly to the bar.

"Hello stranger," the barman greeted him with a welcoming smile, "You've not been around for a while."

"No, I went back home to England," Craig told him.

"But you couldn't keep away eh?"

"Just fancied a beer."

"Course you did," the barman grinned widely.

"Just a beer," Craig insisted as he slid his money across the bar.

The barman opened a bottle of lager and placed it in front of Craig.

"So I suppose you heard what happened to Pete."

"Yeah… yeah I heard…"

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke if you asked me," the barman said running his thumb over the scar on his face, "That bastard deserved everything he got. Shame about the kid that did for him… he should have got a medal, not been locking up…"

"Yeah," Craig turned his eyes from the barman and took a long drink, allowing the cool liquid to trickle slowly down his throat.

"Good to have you back," the barman said as he moved away to serve another customer.

Craig let his gaze wander around the room. There were so many familiar faces. So many men that he had known for a brief time and then simply walked away from. So many lost souls brought together in search of something they would never be able to find there.

"Fancy seeing you here again," a voice to Craig's side said. Craig turned his head to see a face he knew but, like all the others, he had no name for. Craig smiled his reply as he took another drink.

"We've missed having you around," the man said with a wink, "Fancy catching up?" He nodded towards the toilet door as he spoke.

Craig could feel the old sickness rising in his stomach. It would be so easy to follow the man, to go back to what he had been. Closing his eyes for a second Craig felt a smile pass over his lips. Deep in the darkness he saw two bright blue eyes looking at him and he took strength from the love in that gaze. Craig had once needed the company of these men as a distraction for the emptiness that he felt was consuming him but he didn't have that emptiness anymore. He had John Paul.

"Sorry," he said putting his bottle on the bar and getting to his feet, "I don't do that anymore."

The man laughed softly. "No?" he said, "And why's that then?"

"I don't need to," Craig explained holding his hand against the man's cheek, "I've got someone who loves me."

"Lucky you," the man said as he moved to walk away and Craig was sure he saw a glimpse of envy in the man's eyes.

"You going?" the barman called after Craig.

"Yeah," he said with a smile for the kindly man, "I don't need this place anymore."

"Good for you," the barman replied, "I hope we don't see you here again."

"Don't worry… you won't."

The barman smiled at Craig's retreating back. He'd seen so many young men like that one walk into X. He'd seen them lose themselves in the world that the club offered and he'd seen the sparkle of life die in their eyes a little more every day. It was rare to see one like Craig, one that had found his life again and was able to leave X behind. It was good to see the life shine in that young man's deep brown eyes again and he hoped that he really would never see him again.

Craig felt a new strength as he headed for the doors. He felt lighter, more confident and ready to start his life again. He pushed open the doors of the club and stepped through them for the last time. The air outside the club felt cooler and fresher than it ever had before and Craig closed his eyes as he took a deep cleansing breath.

"Craig!"

Craig's eyes snapped open at the sound of his name and a smile spread across his face as he saw the two men approaching him.

"John Paul… Spike… what are you doing here?"

John Paul gripped onto Craig's arm as a feeling of panic gripped his chest. Neither him nor Spike had spoken of where they were heading when they got to Dublin but they both knew and John Paul had hoped they were wrong. He knew what that place was and he knew what it had done to Craig. John Paul had hoped and prayed that they wouldn't find Craig there, but they had and he was terrified to think what that might mean.

"We've come to find you," Spike said resting his hand on Craig's back.

Craig smiled as he looked between the two men. The man he loved more than anything and the friend he never expected to have. And then he saw the look of worry in their eyes.

"It wasn't my fault," Craig said taking hold of John Paul's shoulders and looking into the depths of his beautiful blue eyes. The blue eyes that had always loved him, had always been there for him even when he believed himself to be totally abandoned.

"What wasn't?" John Paul asked with a frown.

"Any of it," Craig told him, "Pete… Jonathan… none of it was my fault."

"I know that," John Paul replied finding himself returning Craig's smile without really knowing why, "I always knew that."

"But I didn't… I was so sure… I was convinced I was to blame… and I wasn't… it's over John Paul, it's really over."

"Craig, what's happened?"

"So much… I don't know where to start," Craig pulled John Paul close to him. "I'll tell you all about it, but later yeah?" he whispered into John Paul's neck, "I love you so much John Paul, thank you for not giving up on me."

"As if I ever could," John Paul said as Craig released his hold, "But… Craig… why did you come back here?"

Craig turned to look at the dilapidated door of Club X. He curled his fingers into John Paul's and pulled the man's arms around his waist, relishing the feeling of his lover so close to him.

"I had to know," Craig said quietly.

"Know what?"

"This place," Craig said quietly, "I started to believe it was some kind of hell, I thought it was filled with demons and monsters… the more I thought about it the more terrifying it became… I had to show myself that it wasn't…"

"And is it?"

Craig looked at the building in front of him with its chipped peeling paintwork and boarded over windows. It was smaller than he remembered and far less frightening.

"It's just a place," Craig said turning back to John Paul, "Just an old rundown bar."

John Paul smiled, "I'm glad."

"There was one more thing I had to know," Craig continued, "I had to be certain that if I walked in there I could walk out again… that I didn't need what that place had to offer."

"And?"

"And I've got you," Craig said and then turned to Spike, "Both of you… nothing in there even comes close."

Craig held out his arms to Spike and the three men stood for a while in a warm embrace.

"So where are you staying?" Craig asked his two companions.

John Paul laughed, "We didn't actually get that far… we were too busy worrying about you!"

"Come on," Craig said walking confidently forward, "I've got a room at a B&B and I'm sure they had vacancies, in fact…" Craig paused with a smile, "Spike can take my room… and I'll see if they've got a double spare!"

With another laugh Craig raced off urging his two friends to follow him.

"Is it really over Spike?" John Paul asked.

Spike watched as Craig raced happily down the road, looking for all the world like a child let out of school early and it reminded him of his own journey to find salvation.

"He's still got a way to go," Spike told John Paul, "But I think he's gonna be OK… you know who he reminds me of?"

John Paul frowned as he tried to think of anyone who looked remotely like his boyfriend. "Who?" he asked finally giving up.

"Craig Dean," Spike said with a deep smile, "And it's good to see him back."

Laughter filled the streets of Dublin as the two men ran to catch up with Craig and, slipping their arms around him, the three of them left the back streets of Club X far behind them.

---

John Paul slid between the cool cotton sheets of the bed and breakfasts double bed that Craig had secured for them, with only a minor raising of eyebrows by the guesthouses owner, and sighed contentedly. He had been so certain that his journey to Dublin was going to be a rescue mission, he had convinced himself that they would arrive to find Craig having fallen back into the lifestyle that had almost ended him. Instead he found a Craig more alive than he had known him for months and the weight of worry lifted from John Paul's shoulders.

"What you thinking about?" Craig asked as he climbed into the bed next to John Paul.

"You."

"Yeah, what about me?"

"I love you."

"So you should… I've very lovable!"

"I mean it," John Paul said running his thumb lightly over Craig's lips and then following the arch of his cheekbone until his hand rested against Craig's cheek. "I've been so scared for so long that I was gonna lose you… and now look at you…"

"I know I've put you through hell these past few months and I'm so sorry…"

"It wasn't your fault…"

"I'm still sorry… but it's over now… and you stayed with me." Craig turned his face to kiss the soft hand that was touching his cheek.

"And I always will," John Paul promised, "Where else in the world would I want to be? I love you."

"Show me," Craig breathed as he held John Paul's face and kissed him deeply, with a passion that he had hidden from for so long.

"Are you sure?" John Paul asked once Craig's lips had left his. His body was already aching for Craig's touch again, to be able to make love to him again like they used to before everything went so wrong, but what John Paul wanted didn't matter to him, it had to be what Craig needed and what Craig was ready for.

"I'm sure," Craig replied pressing his mouth to John Paul's face, covering it with soft urgent kisses, "I need you… I need to love you…" Craig's words died away as he pushed away the sheets that covered their bodies and ran his mouth over the soft silken skin of John Paul's chest. His tongue tasted hungrily at John Paul as his lips tried to devour every inch of the man, taking the firmness of John Paul's nipples between his teeth and nibbling on them gently to the sound of appreciative moans.

John Paul brushed his hand gently along Craig's side, following the curve of his hip and thigh and then tracing the path of soft skin upwards towards Craig's groin. His touch was gentle and slow and John Paul was ready to stop any second if Craig showed signs of distress but instead the man moved closer to him until John Paul could feel the hardness of Craig's cock pressing into his belly.

"I've missed you so much," Craig breathed into John Paul's mouth as the man's hand brushed lightly over his balls and curled gently around his growing erection. John Paul's grip tightened as Craig pressed their lips hard together, his tongue exploring the depths of John Paul's mouth, both men moaning as their arousals grew.

John Paul stroked his hand over the length of Craig's cock, feeling it growing harder in his grip as he eased the foreskin back and brushed his thumb over its sensitive head. Craig moaned into the heat of John Paul's mouth, he'd forgotten how wonderful John Paul's touch could feel and how much he could want somebody without feeling shame.

Pushing Craig onto his back John Paul ran a series of kisses over his chest, circling his tongue against the man's skin to the accompanying sounds of Craig's breaths getting heavier as John Paul's mouth moved lower.

John Paul hesitated before finally touching his mouth to the head of Craig's cock, he wanted to take the man into him so badly but he was constantly aware that he could be pushing things too far and he didn't want to awaken any of the hurt that Craig had been carrying with him for so long.

As if in response to John Paul's worries Craig raised his hips sending his cock deeper into the hot wetness of John Paul's mouth, moaning appreciatively and sinking his fingers into John Paul's hair as the blonde man took his length deeper into his throat, sucking it gently and swirling his tongue over every inch.

Craig's rich brown eyes caught hold of the bright blue ones looking back at him and their gaze locked as Craig continued to ease his cock in and out of John Paul's tender mouth and John Paul continued to suck deeply against it, tasting hungrily at the drops of precum that ran over his tongue. It had been so long since Craig had been intimate with anyone, and even longer since it had been John Paul, that the pressure inside him built rapidly and he knew that it wouldn't be long before he gave in to the insistent ministrations of John Paul's exquisite mouth.

John Paul pulled Craig's cock deeper into him until his face was pressed into the warmth of Craig's body, the scent of him rich and inviting, urging John Paul onwards and making him want more than anything to pleasure his beautiful lover again.

"God John Paul," Craig gasped arching his back, his head thrown back and his eyes closing tightly as his body began to tremble. John Paul moved his mouth faster over Craig's cock, sucking it harder until Craig cried out his pleasure and the heat of his climax poured down John Paul's throat. John Paul continued to suck on the firmness filling his mouth until every drop of fluid was drained from it and Craig's body relaxed limply against the bed.

Climbing back up the bed to Craig John Paul smiled as Craig's eyes observed him with love and their mouths connected again sharing the taste of Craig between them.

"I love you," John Paul whispered in Craig's ear.

He had been so concerned with giving Craig the pleasure that he deserved that John Paul had all but forgotten the ache in his own groin, the hardness of his own cock, until Craig's hand wrapped tightly around it making him gasp.

The memory of all the other men were pushed from Craig's mind as he gently stroked John Paul's erection and watched the man's pupils dilate as his arousal grew.

"Make love to me," Craig asked quietly.

Again John Paul hesitated but Craig smiled reassuringly at him. "Please," Craig said stroking John Paul's face with his free hand, "I want to feel you inside me again… I need you…"

John Paul kissed Craig deeply, their tongues tumbling together in their mouths, exploring every inch they could and tasting the richness of each other again.

Kneeling between Craig's thighs John Paul looked down on the man who looked more and more like the old Craig Dean with every passing minute.

"You sure about this?" John Paul asked again.

Craig smiled, he loved that John Paul was so concerned for him but he wanted to feel the man inside him more. "Do you want me to beg?" Craig asked with a laugh.

"Might be nice!" John Paul replied as he moistened his fingers inside his mouth before pressing them gently between Craig's soft round buttocks.

"Tease!" Craig joked as John Paul's fingertip circled around his tight opening, his laugh turning to a soft moan as John Paul pushed slowly inside him. Craig's body relaxed and opened itself completely to the pressure of John Paul's fingers, consuming them eagerly and hungry for more, his eyes wide with desire as he watched John Paul's face with love.

When neither of them could stand to wait another second John Paul guided his cock towards the opening that was desperate for him and pushed slowly into it as Craig raised his hips higher, wrapping his legs around John Paul's body pulling the man deeper into him.

John Paul moaned loudly as his cock slid fully inside the hot passage of Craig's body as Craig held him tightly, pulling the man's mouth back to his and kissing him with passion. The feeling of John Paul's cock buried deep inside him again, moving slowly but insistently was so intensely perfect that Craig felt his own cock begin to awaken again.

John Paul ran his hands over Craig's gorgeous body as he pushed himself deeper into it; savouring every delicious inch as he made love to the only man he had ever really wanted.

They made love slowly and deeply, relishing every second of pleasure and whispering words of love between kisses and moans as they rode together towards ultimate satisfaction.

Craig's cock had grown firm again as John Paul filled him deeply, his cock pressing against his prostate making him groan with pleasure as his cock throbbed in time to the pulsations running through his body.

John Paul curled his hand around Craig's cock again, gripping it firmly and stroking it in time to his steady thrusts. His face glistened with sweat and his eyes sparkled with joy as he began to thrust deeper and faster into Craig, the urgency of his body and Craig's soft moans pushing him on.

Craig cried out again as John Paul's cock stimulated that spot deep inside him and his own cock throbbed in John Paul's hand, encouraging the man to increase his speed until Craig could resist no longer and he came again, begging John Paul to fuck him harder.

The feeling of Craig's hot body contracting around his cock was more that John Paul could stand and, as he drove himself harder and faster into that hot flesh, he felt the overwhelming rush of his climax and he cried out Craig's name as his cock filled the man's body pouring his love and desire deep into him.

John Paul's body was still shaking as he looked down into the depths of Craig's soft brown eyes. He was startled to see tears there and his physical pleasure was quickly replaced by concern and shame that it had been too much for Craig and he hadn't even noticed.

"Craig… what's wrong?" John Paul asked falling to the man's side and stroking his face gently.

"Nothing," Craig replied with a teary smile, "I think I'd just forgotten how much I love you… you make the world alright again."

John Paul pulled Craig into his arms, kissing his face with relief. "It's what I'm here for," he said gently, "I always will be."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good… John Paul?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

In the quiet of a Dublin bed and breakfast two young men held each other close as they drifted into a gentle sleep. Arms and legs were wrapped around each other as if they didn't want an inch of space between them and smiles played over sleeping faces.

There were no more nightmares to interrupt the peace as the love they shared had chased them all away.

---

It had been two years, four months and eight days since John Paul brought Craig back from Dublin for the second time. It had been a long journey, and not just in miles, but Craig finally felt that he had come home.

A few months after returning to Chester Craig signed up to see a counsellor. It had been difficult at first, telling this stranger what he had done in Dublin and how it hade made him feel but, as the weeks went by, it got easier and more and more frequently his conversations would turn to John Paul and just how much he loved that blue-eyed boy.

Sixteen months after coming home Craig had sat with John Paul, holding his lovers hand and told him everything that he had tried to keep hidden. He told John Paul of the countless, nameless men he had shared his body with in a search for something that he couldn't find and he told John Paul how each one made him feel more and more empty until he thought he would never feel whole again. And finally Craig told John Paul how much he loved him. John Paul listened in silence as Craig spoke, not interrupting and not judging and when Craig had finished he pulled the man into his arms and they held each other close as they both wept, as they both let go of the past.

Craig stood in the centre of the living room of the flat that he shared with his boyfriend looking at himself in the mirror and smiled. It wasn't the sight of his rich chocolate eyes, bright and alive, that made him smile, or the soft deep tan of his skin that spoke of a recent sunny holiday with John Paul. It was the fact that he could look at himself in the mirror and not feel the ache of shame that had haunted him for so long.

He was still looking at himself when the door of the flat opened and John Paul walked in, the aroma of fish and chips spilling from the carrier bag that he placed on the table.

"What took you so long?" Craig asked with a grin as his stomach rumbled with the smell of the food.

"I bumped into Spike."

Craig's smile deepened at the mention of his friend but there was something in John Paul's expression that made him pause. "What's up?"

Walking towards his boyfriend John Paul rested his hand lightly on the man's arm.

"The thing is," he said gently, "Spike's organised his stag night…"

Craig laughed, "Who would have thought, Spike and an accountant."

John Paul joined in with the laughter. "Hey," he said in mock indignation, "Steve is good for Spike; I've never seen him so happy."

"True," Craig agreed, "But still… an accountant – who would have thought it?! So what's the problem with his stag night?"

"I've told him we might not be able to make it…"

"Why would you say that?"

John Paul's hand gripped onto Craig's arm. "He's having it in Dublin."

Craig smiled warmly at the blue-eyed boy's concern. "You really think I would miss out on Spike's night?" he asked, "Really… it's fine… I want to go."

"You sure? I know he'd understand if you weren't ready."

Craig pulled John Paul into his arms and hugged him tightly. "It'll be fine… You'll be there… and Spike… and I don't want to let him down, not on a night like that."

John Paul returned Craig's hug with affection. "I'll always be there," he promised.

"Now come on," Craig laughed releasing his hold, "Get those chips out, I'm famished!"

---

Standing in a room on the 6th floor of a Dublin hotel Craig Dean looked out over the City. The sun was slowly setting and it gave the world below him a gentle pink tint.

He turned his head at the soft knock at the door to see Spike peering around.

"You ready?" Spike asked.

"Nearly, John Paul's just finishing in the bathroom."

"OK… I'll see you downstairs," Spike replied turning to leave.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?" Spike said.

"Why Dublin?"

"Hmm?"

"I was just wondering," Craig explained, "Why did you decide to have your stag night in Dublin?"

Spike smiled as he walked over to Craig and slipped his arms around the younger man's waist; resting his head on Craig's shoulder as they both looked out of the window.

"I wanted to show you what Dublin can really be like," Spike said, "I thought it was time to lay the last of your ghosts to rest."

"Thank you," Craig said as he turned to face Spike and kissed him softly on the lips.

"That Steve's a lucky guy you know!" Craig said as he looked into the dark brown mysteries of Spike's eyes, "If I didn't love John Paul so much I might just have given him a run for his money!"

"And if I didn't love Steve so much I might just have let you," Spike laughed hugging the younger man warmly.

The friendship between the two men had grown over the last couple of years until it was stronger than the friendship John Paul had ever shared with Spike. The common bond between the young dark haired man and the tattooed DJ was such that they had developed a relationship neither of them would have ever anticipated. It was so strong that no one was surprised when Spike asked Craig and not John Paul to be his best man, or when Craig accepted.

"I'll see you downstairs," Spike repeated dropping his hold of Craig's waist, "Tell that boyfriend of yours to get a move on… we've got some partying to do… and you'd better not be planning to leave me stripped and tied to a lamppost!"

"As if!" Craig said with a laugh.

"Was that Spike I just heard?" John Paul asked coming out of the bathroom.

"Yeah he was wondering what was taking you so long," Craig joked.

"Cheek," John Paul said laughing as he moved to slip his arms around his boyfriend, resting his head on Craig's shoulder in much the same way as Spike had done. "What you looking at?"

"Dublin."

"You OK?" John Paul held Craig a little tighter as he asked the question. He had seen the nervousness in Craig's eyes when the first boarded the plane and again as it touched down in the City that had been the home of so much pain.

"I'm fine," Craig reassured him, "It's actually very beautiful… I'm glad I got a chance to see it."

John Paul smiled and Craig could see his dazzling blue eyes reflecting on the windowpane, contrasted against the growing darkness of the night.

"And you know what else is beautiful?" Craig asked raising his hand to John Paul's cheek as he continued to stare at their reflection.

"What?"

"You are."

Craig turned to get a better look at the beautiful blue eyes that he loved before kissing John Paul's soft mouth tenderly.

"You're not so bad yourself," John Paul replied with a grin as he looked at the face of the man he had almost lost forever.

Slipping his hand into Craig's John Paul led him towards the door. "We'd better get going or Spike will never forgive us."

"Oh John Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"We ARE planning to leave Spike handcuffed naked to a lamppost at some point tonight aren't we?"

"Course we are!"

"Good," Craig said with a wicked grin, "He'd be so disappointed if we didn't."

As he hit the light switch the hotel room was plunged into blackness and the twinkling lights of the city below shone through the window with an ethereal glow.

"It really is a beautiful city," Craig breathed quietly.

Holding John Paul's hand tightly Craig pulled the door closed behind him and the two men strode into the night taking the first steps on their path into the future, together.


End file.
